Thursday, July 23, 2015

"During
college, I spent a few wonderful evenings making out with a longhaired
poet. I spent a few weeks messing around with a gentle, funny religion
student. I even briefly, if accidentally, dated a high school student
(since when do 17-year-olds have beards?).

"This
is what you do in college. No longer tethered to childhood routines and
unburdened by the judgments and prejudices of people who know you best,
you explore and experiment, sampling new ideologies, new points of
view. New people.

"So
I sampled, freely and happily. But my situation was different from
most: I also had a serious boyfriend at the time. Serious, as in we
lived together. We owned two cats together. I wasn’t breaking any rules,
however. We had an open relationship.

"It was a complete disaster.

"My
boyfriend and I met in Introduction to Philosophy. He was dark-haired,
charming and endearingly weird, one of those passionate, articulate boys
who live life in superlatives. The music he listened to was the best of
all possible music. The books he read stood at the pinnacle of
literature. He himself was going to be the greatest philosopher of his
generation.

"I
know, I know. But I was only 18! I was, and still am, a sucker for a
quick wit, a raucous laugh and a big brain. Moreover, my boyfriend was
generous with his grand convictions: The people he surrounded himself
with were destined for greatness, too. Loved by him, I felt swathed in
glory.

"Inseparable
from the start, he and I explored the new world of our university
together, attending readings, plays and concerts. We ate pie and sushi.
We drank gin and lemonade. I spent the summer in his hometown, falling
under the spell of his courtly father and gracious mother. Back on
campus in the fall, he and I moved in together, filling a ramshackle
apartment with music posters and thrift-store furniture.

"Cue the cats. Cue domesticity.

"Or
rather, don’t. My boyfriend was committed to living his life according
to strict intellectual principles, and for him, personal freedom was
paramount. Love could not require constraint, foreclosure or
deprivation. He argued that even though we planned a future together, we
should always permit each other to do as we pleased, including dating
other people.

"Whoa,
sorry, what? I was from a small town in Illinois. My idea of romance
was as conventional as could be, involving me and my boyfriend “sitting
in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.” First comes love, then comes marriage, and so
on.

"Or
was there? I wasn’t on the playground anymore. I was supposed to be
exploring, experimenting, sampling new perspectives. I wasn’t a
philosopher like my boyfriend, but I was studying English literature,
including Percy Bysshe Shelley.

"As he wrote: 'True Love in this differs from gold and clay, / That to divide is not to take away.'

Shelley
railed against the prevailing morality that demanded lovers marry and
be monogamous, and so travel 'the broad highway of the world … / With
one chained friend.'

"One chained friend. Sounds like fun.

"I
had no wish to shackle anyone to me, especially not the person I loved
best. I didn’t want to concede — by being possessive, by demanding
fidelity — that my love was anything less than capital-T True. If an
open relationship was necessary to prove how well I loved my boyfriend, I
was happy to comply.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

We were all damaged.That’s what drew us together.We
were 14, 15, and 16-years-old.Each of
us had an abusive father who was either an alocholic or just a mean drunk.We saw each others families.We knew each others secrets.We never spoke of them. We didn’t know how to.

We didn’t have an official name like the High Street
Gang.We were the neighborhood juvenile
delinquents.There were three brothers
from one family, two from another, two more from another, and me.That was the core.Other kids came and went.I guess that’s normal.I ran with the High Street Gang for a short
while, but came back to my friends.

We all smoked cigarettes and that was what we mostly did
when we got together.We weren’t allowed
to smoke anywhere openly.We hung out in
Lakeview Park
or at the Zoo, smoked, and talked tough.Stealing cigarettes was one of our primary activities.

A couple of the brothers got so good at shoplifting that
they started taking orders at school.You told them what you wanted, they stole it and then sold it to you for
half the retail price.Pants were the
most popular item.I shoplifted, too,
but I was nothing like those guys.I’d
steal a pack of cigarettes.They’d steal
a carton.

Cologne was
another popular item.We stole that for ourselves,
too.Whenever we went to a dance or the
movies or a basketball game or any other activities where girls might be
present, we drowned ourselves in cologne or after shave.I guess we thought that made us more
adult.Three or four of us together
would create quite the aroma.

Monday, July 20, 2015

"Henry Ford back in 1941 produced a car with body panels
made from hemp, and biodegradable internal parts made from hemp plastic. In the video
to the right you can see footage of this video, how a sledge hammer could be
used on the panels and not to leave a mark. The panels were said to be lighter
than steel and 10 times stronger. Henry Ford probably developed the car as a
response to the US
governments encouragement to grow hemp in their 'Hemp For Victory'
campaign. What Henry Ford was not aware of is that after the war had finished
the US
government would then ban hemp
again, destroying any possibility that the hemp car could reach the
mass market. This was not the first time Henry Fords efforts to produce 'green'
cars was halted. The Model T was designed to run on ethanol produced from
agricultural materials, in fact at one point 25% of the fuel market for the car
was provided for by ethanol. However prohibition become law (a bill which was
funded by John D. Rockefeller 'Standard Oil'). This made fuel ethanol also
illegal. Henry Ford continued to produce cars which could run on ethanol for
many more years, however eventually gave up. One year after the last Ford was
produced which could run on ethanol, prohibition ended. Now the reasons I like
to share this information is to demonstrate how the uses of Hemp have been
proven many times, yet today we still cannot fully utilize this crop.
Miscanthus, Switchgrass
and other biomass energy crops all produce burnable fuel pellets, but they all
fall short of hemp on a sustainability basis and a fuel quality basis. In our small scale
pellet plants we can process whole hemp or the shiv. Shiv is the woody core
of the plant which is left over after the fibers have been removed for other
products. The material is reduced in size through a hammer mill and then these
particles are metered into the pellet press. Under high heat and pressure in
the pellet mill a hemp pellet is formed."

Friday, July 17, 2015

It was a
lie.The movies.A lie.The car did not blow up.It did
not explode five feet into the air.After the can of gasoline, after the lit book of matches, it went
whoomp, a dull thump, and the Grand Am was on fire.Orange blue flames burning above the broken
rear window, buzzing on the roofline.Churning swirls of oily soot.Black flowers unfolded upon a pale afternoon sky.The little girl sitting on the fire hydrant
across the street was running now, running away down the street.I realized I had to leave, too.Time to go.The sirens already were in the distance.Go.It belched.Another thump.The windshield, I think, plopped out.Time to go.Stop watching it burn.Go!I got into my Chevy.It was running.I don’t remember doing that, leaving it
running.Like a dream, really, like they
say, a dream.No panic or fear.Just a clicking along.Just a ticking away.I drove around some blocks, around and
around.Up and down.And then, finally, back to the Grand Am,
where firemen were dousing it with water, not foam.Another movie lie.Water, nothing else.I cruised by.Almost, “Hi guys, how’s it goin’?”But no, just drive and gawk a little.Then home.Home to hide.Home to oblivion.

Saturday, the
busiest day of the week.Saturday, when
it is on all day long.The customers, the phones, the noise, the
heat.The cars going up and down on the
lifts like giant carousel rides.Saturday, when I am always sick.

Mike says,
“Listen, I know who broke in, I know who hit the shop.Just some young punks sitting around smoking
dope.”

My head
hurt.

Mike says,
“Idiots with nothing better to do than drive a goddamn car into the fire
door.”

Christ, they
drove into the wall.A few cinder blocks
gave way and they crawled into the shop.

Mike says, “Not
too bright, huh?”

The alarm system
never went off, the motion detectors detected nothing, the police did not give
a damn.They do not care about some
two-bit break-in; they do not give a damn.

She was
talking.I snapped to.The music was very loud.Who was it?It was Saturday night.Or Sunday morning.Our living room.Hendrix.

“You don’t care for me, I don’t care about
that.”

She was yelling now.

“. . . sick and
tired of it!Do you hear me?Sick and tired of it!And sick of all your goddamned talk about the
shop!Why don’t you marry the shop?”

“I have only one and burning desire.”

Why didn’t
I?The rhythms of the shop I
understood.The dark grace of machinery,
the sheen of stainless steel, air compressors rattling, hiss of torches, even
the smell of grease, all of it was natural to me, compatible.In my element.God in His heaven, I in mine.

But this, this .
. .

“Let me stand next to your fire.”

I lit another
one.

On the
porch.From up here you could see the
planes circling O’Hare at night.Round
and round.Take-offs and landings.Now it was bright, sunny.Church bells.It was too hot.The clink of
cubes.Like breaking glass.“Random gunfire,” the police said.Strafing.“Disputed turf.”AAA Board-up
Service was first in the phone book, first on the scene.“They’re not aiming at you.Your shop just happens to be in the
way.”Cop humor.Attitudes and threats.Over and over, attitudes and threats.Then one day, tag, you’re it.Bang.You’re in the way.A broken
window.Or a hole in the chest.Used to sit at the corner of Bunky’s bar,
watching traffic go by.Watching the
circus parade on Fullerton Avenue.Then Mike, he says, “Stray bullet through
that doorway hits you first.”Christ.Eduardo shows up on
crutches.Leg in a cast.“They caught me in the lot after dark.”Baseball bats.Cartilage beaten and snapped, sinew torn,
bone chips like broken glass.Never walk
the same.Over and over.Watch ‘em rise and fall.One week Ferman’s the man, his ride getting everything, the works, no questions
asked, just fix it, do it, my man, just do it.Next week Angel has Ferman’s wheels and wants it done his way.A look into his eyes tells you not to
ask.Just do it, man.Count the money later.They always spared the shop, though.Till now.Didn’t crap their bed.We worked
the cops’ cars and theirs.Kept the
precinct happy, the Kings happy, the Lovers happy, kept everyone happy while we
split the difference.

Till now.

Hot.Way too hot.

I needed some
fuel.

Monday morning
she did not look at me.I avoided the
mirror, too.Very warm very early.Conducive to paranoia.Shaky.I remembered the old Pontiac, the smell of the burning
interior.Did I tell her?She would know in any case.Secrets were impossible.All that remained between us was getting
even, keeping score.And I had lost
track.

Driving, I
thought about the precinct’s watch commander.Irish name.We exchanged favors
once.Flannigan?He released our truck and we did a free
exhaust system on his Impala.A
bargain.Our driver had been picked up
on warrants.The $4,000 parts order
never would have survived the impound lot.Brannigan?Maybe, if I was in
trouble, maybe he could help.

The car’s hulk
stood next to the shop.Blackened.All the glass gone.Tires melted, fused with the asphalt.I was trembling.Nauseous again.I felt obligated to walk by and look.How would an innocent man react?Who was watching?

It was
gutted.Damp.Stunk.I walked into the shop.

The clerk asked,
“You see it?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck this
neighborhood.”

He did not
suspect.

Mike saw me.He followed me into the back room.

“Can you believe
it?” he said.“Their car is fried.It’s beautiful!Beautiful!”

“Fuck this
neighborhood,” I said, looking at the floor.

“They deserve it,
Long Legs, they deserve it! I’m glad it
happened.This kind of shit will keep
them thinking straight.It’s good for
them.And good for us.”

I looked up.His eyebrows were arched, he was
smiling.He beamed at me.He suspected.

“It’s not good
for anybody,” I said.

But he did not
know.

The wreck was on
the street for days.No hurry.The city was glutted with junkers.Calls to the precinct were referred to the
alderman.Calls to the alderman were
referred to the sanitation department.Calls to sanitation were not answered.

Not even vandals
disturbed the Grand Am.It was a
leper.

Mike made broad
hints.I said nothing.

One morning as I
arrived, I saw another burned out car.Across the street from the Grand Am lay a scorched Cutlass.Deeply dented, partially on the sidewalk,
almost folded.Hit hard before
burning.It was charred and hollow, a
dark pool beneath it.A grotesque
brother.

It was Playboy’s.

Mike came out of
the shop as I got out of my car.He
motioned toward the Oldsmobile.“Check
it out, check it out.”

“What the hell?”
I muttered.

Mike said, “Angel
was here.Said the Lovers did that.They figured Playboy did the Poncho.Payback is a mother.”

“What?What are you talking about?”I felt lightheaded, floating away.

“The Grand Am
belonged to Lovers.Angel says Playboy
is a King.He’s the one who torched it,
so they totaled his car.Totaled it.”

I looked from car
to car.

“Uh,” Mike said,
“there’s a cop up front for you.”

Floating away.

I walked to the
front of the shop very slowly.

Watch Commander
Tom Flaherty sat in the lobby.He nodded
as I walked in.Then he got up and
walked out to the sidewalk.I followed
him.How would this happen?

In front of the
shop, Watch Commander Tom Flaherty brought up the recent fire bombings.Said they did not bode well for the
neighborhood.An escalation in the turf
war.Things were hot and getting
hotter.He was concerned for the shop’s
safety and thought he would drop by.A
friendly warning.We should keep our
eyes open.The bangers were crazy and
dangerous.We should be careful.

And did we have
time to check the Impala for a leak?

“Of course,” I
said, “of course.”I’d be sure to get it
up in the air.Just like in the movies.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Alderman Ray DeHahn makes a motion to simply have the
committee keep an eye on the bar, and see if the earlier closing time
improved things!!

In October 2007- After being thrown out because of a fight, a patron came back to Kenny’s bar
with a gun and shot two persons inside the bar and one person outside the bar. Kenny’s was
called before the Licensing Committee on October 22, 2007. The owner told the Licensing
Committee he fired three bartenders and promised to be more observant. The report was
received and filed by the Licensing Committee and no further action was taken.

In October of 2009 The owners of Kenny’s, Neighborhood Bar were requested to appear before the committee for incidents at their tavern.

On August 6, 2011,
at 2:12 a.m., the Police Department responded to a fight
inside AND outside of Kenny’s Tavern. Upon arrival, officers saw that
the front window of the bar was
broken. Several people in the street began throwing punches. Several
people ignored commands by officers to stop fighting and were taken into
custody at Taser point.

In all, four people were arrested
and eight officers were required to manage the incident. The incident
tied up officers for over three hours. The matter was received and filed
by the Licensing Committee and no further action was taken.

On August 11, 2012, at approximately 12:30 a.m., multiple gun shots were fired
in the direction of Kenny’s. Multiple cars were hit by gunfire and one person was shot in the
arm. Witnesses in the bar said they saw and heard “shots flying.” The shooting does not appear
on police reports or on the bar’s history report. The incident was never referred to the Licensing
Committee.

On May 11, 2013, at 1:00 a.m., the Police Department responded to another
shooting at Kenny’s. Upon arrival, officers spoke to bar security and learned that a fight had
occurred inside Kenny’s between several patrons. As the bar was emptying, two people fired
numerous shots. The Police Department noted that the investigation was ongoing. The
Licensing Committee took no action on this incident.

On June 23, 2013, at 1:05 a.m., the Police Department responded to another
shooting incident at Kenny’s and found that the suspects fired several rounds at the rear smoking
patio area. A patron was struck in the left buttock by a bullet. Despite several shootings in just a
few years, on June 30, 2013, Kenny’s Class B liquor license was renewed.

On July 22, 2013 After
a string of incidents involving Kenny’s, the Licensing Committee asked
the owner to appear before it for an informal meeting on July 22, 2013.
One of the committee
members said that the conference was intended for information gathering
only. The owner of Kenny’s Bar told the Licensing Committee that the bar
would voluntarily close at midnight on the weekends in light of recent
events.

The owner told the Licensing Committee that he and his staff also met
with the Police Department on June 28 to discuss crime prevention strategies. Police
Department Chief Howell requested the Licensing Committee treat the recent shooting at
Kenny’s as a homicide. The Licensing Committee asked for a side agreement and ordered
Kenny’s to return to the Licensing Committee on August 12, 2013.

On August 12, 2013, Kenny’s was not required to sign a side agreement before
the Licensing Committee. In fact, Kenny’s was not even on the Licensing Committee’s agenda.
Chief Howell reported to the Licensing Committee that Kenny’s was closing early until things
quieted down. Apparently to alleviate any of the Licensing Committee’s apprehension
concerning Kenny’s, Chief Howell assured the Licensing Committee that he had spoken to Joey
LeGath of the Tavern League.

On June 21st, 2015, Police were called at about 2:29 a.m.
on Saturday to the 3700 block of North Main Street for a report of a
single-vehicle crash that knocked down a pine tree.

Officers found
several bodies lying outside, according to Blade’s criminal complaint,
and his ex-girlfriend was screaming: “Help me! I don’t want to die! I
can’t breathe! It’s hot!” Police saw her legs dangling inside the
passenger compartment of the white Mercury Mountaineer, and her upper
body had been thrown through the windshield — where that portion of her
body was trapped under the hood in the engine compartment, the complaint
states.

The passengers, ages 20, 22, 23, 25, and 25, and Blade
had been drinking at Kenny’s bar before the crash and were headed to an
after-party, the complaint states.

On June 21st, 2015 A
local man was charged Tuesday in the Father’s Day crash on 1:37 a.m.
Sunday in the 100 block of Main Street. The fatal crash, located just
south of the Main Street Bridge on Main Street left two men dead, with a
prosecutor leveling accusations of both speeding and drinking.

Ramone Campbell
was “speeding on Main Street,” Assistant District Attorney Bridget
Brave said, asking for the $500,000 cash bond. Campbell was “drunk and
killed more than one person on Father’s Day.”

A 19-year-old
passenger in the black Ford Explorer that Campbell was driving said they
had been drinking at a party Saturday evening, and shared a beer while
driving to Kenny’s bar after midnight on Sunday, according to the
complaint. The teen said after they left Kenny’s, Campbell was speeding
approximately 50 mph to 60 mph on Main Street before he lost control of
the sport-utility vehicle and crashed into the oncoming Malibu, the
complaint states. The speed limit on Main Street is 25 mph.In a city due process hearing, the licensee may be represented by counsel and
produce witnesses. Testimony at the Licensing Committee due process hearing is under oath,
subject to the right of cross-examination, and recorded.

Monday, July 13, 2015

"Racine Residents will be picking up the tab once again for more
lawsuits filed against both current and former City Of Racine police
officers and the current police chief Art Howell. City Attorney Rob
Weber has made the requests to represent the individuals, with the bill
falling to City Of Racine taxpayers.

"The requests will go before the Racine Common Council on July 22nd 7pm at City Hall."

"Racine- 'In light of the "financial hardship" that the city used last
year to leverage an 8 percent reduction in the compensation of its
police officers, we are at a loss as to how such an extraordinary
increase can be justified now for an individual who was hired at a lower
rate of pay back in (2009),' states Todd Hoover, a criminalist and
Racine Police Association president, in the letter.

"'In the eyes
of many Racine Police officers, there seems to be an incredible lack of
balance in how this city approaches its mission of serving this
community and the taxpayers,' Hoover writes in the letter.

"'Dickert’s proposal
has caused many Racine Police Association members to seriously question
the city’s priorities, and has inspired a great deal of frustration
amongst the men and women who risk their lives to keep our community
safe.'

"Dickert responded later Thursday regarding the letter,
calling its tone ‘unexpected,’ and reaffirming the difficulties the city
is facing in retaining its experienced employees.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

"Racine Mayor John Dickert had this to say at a recent city plan commission meeting,

"'The intersections of West Boulevard
and Washington Avenue, and Washington Avenue and Ohio Street are on the list for
discussion.'

"It’s no secret that Mayor Dickert does not want
the CVS development in Racine and has cast a deciding vote of 'no' to
the development. Now Dickert says the corner is in discussions over a
possible roundabout that would surely dismantle the development plans
for the corner."

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

"Peter Feigin, president of the Milwaukee Bucks, informed Wisconsin lawmakers that the NBA team
will move to another market if the requested 250 million dollars in public
funding for the proposed arena is not approved.

"Go already!

"Wisconsin doesn't need or want another public welfare team like the MLB Milwaukee Screwers. The Brewer taxing district has continued
to lie to the public about finances and continues to force the public to
pay for millionaires games. Bud Selig and his daughter, Welfare Wendy
Selig/Prieb and others have had the money rolling in since this
corporate welfare scam was jammed down the throats of the Proles and
Sheeple. Former Governor Tommy Tax Thompson and his co conspirators have stuck the public with a shit sandwich. To quote Tommy Tax Thompson regarding the stadium tax, 'STICK IT TO 'EM'

"Only Proles and Sheeple could be so stupid to support another public welfare supported team.

If the deal was soooo good , private money would be flooding into the proposed arena.

"A long time ago after the Milwaukee Braves left for Atlanta, a distinguished former player of the
Milwaukee Brave was asked by a sportswriter why he didn't go to Brewer
Stadium to watch the MLB games. His response was classic. 'Who wants to go watch a bunch of millionaires play ball?'

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

"Read an open letter to the public from the Chief Of Police, as he
addresses a recent video gone viral, showing what appears to be a case
of unfair harassment against Oscar James Wells. Read the entire
statement at the link below".

"Racine, WI — James Wells was driving through town this week when he was stopped by a cop for a missing front license plate.

"During the stop, Wells says the officer refused to let him get his
insurance, after she asked him for his insurance. The officer then wrote
him a ticket for failure to provide proof of insurance!

"As the officer is writing up the various pieces of paper that will be
used to extort this man, Wells grabs his cell phone and proceeds to go
off.

"'When she came to the car and she asked if I have a drivers license, I
said yes, I have to look for it though it’s in my glove compartment.
She said no, I don’t know what you’re reaching for, do not reach for
it,' Wells explains the officer’s fearful tactics.

"'When you ask me if I have insurance, and I reach to show you my
insurance you get scared? And then you assume I don’t have any,' says
Wells, describing the irrational nature of this officer.

Men in Black

Kay: A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago everybody knew the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody knew the Earth was flat, and fifteen minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.

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